He's impossibly careful, his movements slow and deliberate as he explores me, licking and sucking with a focused intensity that borders on worship.
He uses his lips and the flat of his tongue to tease and stimulate, avoiding the sharp edges of his teeth with precision and protective tenderness.
The pleasure is different this time, slower, deeper, a simmering heat that builds gradually, seeping into every nerve ending until I'm writhing once more, my fingers tangling in his dark hair, pulling him closer, silently begging for more.
He's mapping every inch of me, learning my body, claiming me with a patient, possessive thoroughness that is more intimate, more vulnerable, than anything we've done before. The world dissolves, my entire being focused on the wicked, wonderful things he's doing to me with his mouth, the slow, steady burn of a desire that threatens to consume me whole.
He begins to hum, a low, resonant sound that comes from deep within his broad chest.
The vibrations travel through the water and into my body, a low, thrumming sound that amplifies every touch, every stroke. He focuses his attention on the sensitive head of my length, swirling the vibrations around the tip before taking me carefully into his mouth, the heat and wetness a shocking, blissful counterpoint to the cool water.
The hum becomes a deep, possessive growl, the vibrations sending jolts of intense pleasure straight to my core, making my entire body tremble.
His hands are not idle either. One grips my hip, holding me steady in the water, while the other moves to the tight, sensitive entrance he so thoroughly prepared.
He slides one finger back inside me, the sensation a welcome, filling pressure that makes me cry out. The dual stimulation is intoxicating, the humming vibrations of his mouth around my length and the deliberate, skilled stroking of his finger inside me, curling to press against that spot that makes me see stars.
He works me with a focused, relentless intensity, building the pleasure higher and higher, a slow, inexorable tide that threatens to pull me under. I'm lost in a haze of sensation, my world narrowed to the heat of his mouth, the deep hum of his desire, and the possessive pressure of his hands on my body.
The pressure inside me builds, a tight, coiling knot of pure sensation that winds tighter with every deep vibration of his hum, every skilled curl of his finger. He pushes me to the brink, holding me there, suspended in a state of exquisite agony, until I am a writhing, whimpering mess in his arms. I can't form words, only desperate, fragmented pleas.
"Kael... please... I need..."
I'm not even sure what I'm begging for, only that I need more, I need him.
He seems to understand, releasing me with one last, lingering suck that sends a final jolt through my already over-stimulated body.
But before I can even process the sudden emptiness, I'm moving, driven by a desperate, instinctual need to give back, to claim him as he has claimed me.
I push against the water, reversing our positions, and he lets me, a surprised grunt escaping him as I take control.
I wrap my fingers around the heavy length of him, my own breath catching as I truly admire him for the first time.
He is magnificent, a proud, formidable column of flesh, the skin stretched taut over a rigid core, the head a deep, flushed purple that glistens in the filtered light. I've never seen anything so intimidatingly beautiful.
I lean in, my own inexperience a distant worry compared to the overwhelming desire to taste him, to pleasure him as he has pleasured me.
I wrap my lips around the head, my tongue tentatively swirling around the sensitive slit, tasting the salty, musky essence of him. He groans, a deep, guttural sound of surprise and pleasure that encourages me, and I take him deeper, my jaw stretching to accommodate his girth. I can feel the veins pulsing against my tongue, the sheer size of him a thrilling challenge.
I try to mimic his movements, sucking and licking, my hands stroking what I can't take into my mouth.
He's never had this done to him before, I realize with a jolt of possessive pride, and the thought that I am the first, the only, to have him like this sends a surge of fierce, triumphant pleasure through me.
I am his equal, his lover, and I will show him the depth of my devotion.
I worship him with my mouth, my tongue tracing the pulsing veins, my lips tightening around the rigid head with each pull. I feel him growing impossibly harder in my mouth, the muscles in his tail tensing beneath my hands, and I know he's close.
A primal, possessive pride surges through me—I am the one doing this to him, the one making him lose control.
Suddenly, a rough hand grabs my hair, pulling my head back with a force that sends a jolt of pure, unadulterated pleasure straight to my core.
I look up at him, and the feral, desperate hunger in his eyes steals my breath.
He is no longer the patient, gentle lover. He is the predator, and I am his prey.
I bare my teeth in a silent challenge of a smile, a spark of defiance igniting in my chest.
I will not submit, not completely.
